Star Trek :: The Glistening Eye
by MekQuarrie
Summary: There's always one guest at a wedding who is unexpected or unwanted. But what if he's the groom? :: Some mischief in the 'Nemesis' era.
1. Chapter 1

Picard set his glass on one of the vacant silver trays. "I must leave briefly for a little comfort break." The last of the vintage Chateau Picard was starting to irritate his bladder.

"Hurry back," said Guinan quietly. She stared serenely at the rest of the wedding guests.

"Ah yes, early doors", Picard promised.

The trouble with the _Enterprise_-E was the overly clever architecture. Hokkaido's finest Feng Shui master had designed, the waste and water management to flow in the most uplifting and creative way. But this often meant that the rest-rooms, non-gender specific of course, were being deconstructed and reconstructed in steps moving towards or away from the center of the ship at any given time.

By luck alone, Picard found a rest-room, although the door outline was sealed and a small red 'fault' light flickered angrily at about door-handle height. "Override locks, computer." The doors hissed and separated smoothly, sliding gracefully into the walls.

The unscrubbed smell of sweat made the Captain pause before leaning in the doorway.

"I'm sorry. Were you using this facility, Will?"

Riker lay crouched near-naked on the floor and took a few seconds to respond. Picard could see his ship tattoos on his left bicep. The stylized ironclad boxhouse outline used by former USS _Potemkin _crew was fading. But the unofficial etched galleon of the USS _Enterprise_ was still fresh below it. Picard did not have much time for tattoos - he had had the _Pegasus _name removed a long time ago - but they seemed to suit Riker.

Riker looked exhausted and his eyes wet with tears. "What time is it?" he gasped.

Picard glanced at an information panel at his side in the corridor wall. "Twenty hundred hours. Eight o'clock in the evening. Were you getting changed? You're not ready to leave already?"

"The wedding," he said under his breathe. "I have to get ready for the wedding."

The mild warming effect of his family's viticulture wore off instantly and Picard felt his blood cool to a chill. "But the wedding was two hours ago," he said, his voice struggling to stay intact. "And you..."

"I what?" asked Riker with a frown.

"You already married Deanna."

**:::**

"You must surely have some recollection of yesterday evening?" Picard was in no mood for vagueness. He loomed over his former Security Officer as convincingly as he could.

Worf put down his pewter tankard and sighed heavily. "It is all a bit of a haze, Captain. Mr. Crusher arrived and there were some songs based, I recall, around Viking mythology. All historically and anatomically unlikely, I must add." he tried to catch the attention of the servers to bring him more ales.

Picard's eyes widened. "Wesley? I thought his mother had forbidden him from attending such ritual debauchery." He sighed. "But I suppose he is a young man now."

Worf drummed his fingers on the side of the faux metal. "He seemed well prepared, and was adequately stocked with bottles of hard liquor from all the near galaxies. However, he did not attempt to compete with my legendary capacity for legalized poisons." He looked quietly content. "No-one did."

Picard tried to follow what details were discernible. "And Riker too? Will kept well away, I'm sure. We did all agree that a stags outing so close to the wedding would be a bad idea."

Worf tried to hold his face as blank as possible. "I do not like to say, Captain. In fact I recall only a tedious session with mahjong tiles which led me to find an excuse to go and find better conversation with some Rigellians. Entertainers."

"So Riker was there? Was Will part of the excursion, Worf? You have to tell me."

Worf nodded. "I confess, Captain. But no harm was done. You see him standing across the room from us without visible signs of wear."

**:::**

Crusher turned away from the rest of the people at the party and hunched over the table. "Please call me, Wes. I'm grown-up now. Despite what my mother thinks." Picard kept his eyebrows raised. Wesley cleared his throat and continued. "Thomas helped me out with obtaining my commission on the USS _Titan_. I don't know who he knows, but after all that trouble with the white hats and my hidden drinking problem, I was lucky to be cleaning toilets on Qo'noS. No offence, Worf."

Worf blinked. "None understood, and none taken." He sipped the last of the contents of a plain bottle in front of him. The bottle itself was the last of several that he had left lined up on the table in a disorganized tableau of the Battle of Wolf 359. He was considering dashing the glass items on the floor in a show of Klingon bravado. But it was the wrong moment.

Crusher whispered close to Picard's ear. "I was only asked to help out with a prank and you guys hadn't invited me to the stags party, so I thought it would be a good way to join in. And no-one got hurt, right?"

Picard slapped his forehead. "Hurt is relative, Wesley. What was the prank?"

Wesley shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I had hoped it might involve Rigellian strippers, but Will had a lot to drink then went to his room to sleep. It all ended a bit lame really."

"What was your specific intent? Didn't the other Riker tell you anything else?"

"I just had to get him drunk enough to dress him up for an embarrassing picture. But he went off, like I said." Crusher peeled the paper label from one of Worf's bottles. He was keen to leave.

"So, somewhere between sending him back to his room and the groom arriving this morning, Will has been trapped in a restroom and replaced by Thomas Riker."

"Wait. Are you saying, Will didn't get married to Deanna?" Crusher raised his eyebrows. "Won't she be really angry about that?"

Picard patted Crusher's shoulder and tried to be calm. "That might be her mildest reaction. And don't forget who helped with this subterfuge."

Crushed felt his throat go dry.


	2. Chapter 2

"How are we today?" asked Troi. Her smile seemed to light up the whole ship.

Picard filled his mind with absurdly happy thoughts. Although Deanna would not intrude, it would be difficult to avoid exuding negativity if he thought too much on what had happened the previous evening. "I'm so glad for you, Deanna. You and Will." He glanced fleetingly at the back of the man who he had given the ring to at the ceremony. "After all we've been thru, it's wonderful to have these sorts of occasions."

"I will speak to you soon, Jean-Luc," she said kissing him on the cheek. "I have to keep an eye on my mother. Not just at weddings, but particularly at weddings."

Riker turned from his small talk, a glint in his eye and a broad grin on his lips. He still looked magnificent in his Dinner Dress uniform, but to Picard's eye it now looked a little less well fitting. Something definitely borrowed.

"Ah, Jean Luc," said Riker. "A wonderful end to a wonderful day. Don't you agree?" He had the same bright smile that Troi had exhibited.

Picard's mind full of happy thoughts cleared rapidly. "A few of the details were not as planned, perhaps," he suggested. It still seemed odd to be looking at Riker in the face. But he had seen the tattoos. It was clear what had happened.

"The odd flower here and there," said Riker. He winked. "Nothing to worry about."

"The odd guest who wasn't invited?" Picard suggested with a raised eyebrow.

Riker laughed quietly. "You look like that Vulcan legend, Spock. You've met him, right?"

"We both have," Picard confirmed. He fixed his gaze on Riker's dark eyes. "Did the research get a bit boring around that time?"

Riker raised his own eyebrows. A slight pressing together of his lips suggested a hidden train of thought. "Of course. We both have."

"You're not William Riker," Picard hissed. He tried to keep his face turned away from the rest of the guests.

"I was certainly born under that name," Riker shrugged. "Mostly I like the name Thomas, but it sometimes helps to draw on the past."

"You can't marry a woman who thinks you're someone else." Picard was ready to explode.

"It wouldn't be the first time that had happened," Riker smirked. "I'll be whatever she wants me to be. Probably more than that other Riker could say." His eyes focussed in the distance, looking intently at the faces in the crowd. "You didn't let him out too soon did you? It could all get a bit messy if he starts any trouble."

Picard gripped the groom's forearm. "We have to make this right. Come with me." He could see the anxious faces of Crusher and Worf waiting in the corridor just outside the function suite.

Riker looked down at the hand of the man who had never been his Captain. "I don't think you get to give orders at a wedding." He pulled his hand away. "Particularly not mine."

**:::**

Where is Will?" asked Troi. "He was here a moment ago." She looked around the milling crowd of faces.

"He wanted to have a chat with Worf and young Wesley." Picard smiled. "Probably just thanking them for everything they've done." He hoped that the commotion of the alternate Riker's abduction would not stand out above the noise of the party.

Her eyes sparkled. "He does seem very happy. I've not seen him smile that way in a long time." Picard thought to himself that he had not seen Troi smile that way either in such a long time. He was about to talk. But he did not know what he would say.

She hugged Picard again. "Send him to me when he's done. I don't want to let go of him ever again."

"I will do my best," he replied.

**:::**

"I have no wish to see two naked human males fighting in a latrine again," said Worf. "Most upsetting."

"You saw the tattoos?" asked Picard.

"Yes," said Worf with obvious distaste. "The other Riker had the marks of the _Potemkin _and the _Gandhi_. But also…"

"What?" Picard hoped things had not taken a turn for the worse. He was running out of bottled water to slake his nervous thirst.

"There was a vain allusion to the USS _Defiant _below his regulation postings. How he can claim to have served aboard that ship is most disrespectful. An act of minor piracy should not be honored in such a way."

Picard nodded. He had read the original reports from Deep Space 9 with dismay. "And where is Thomas Riker now?"

"Wesley is taking him to Security," Worf said. "It was for the best. I would not have been polite or patient."

For a second, Picard froze. "Is that wise?"

"I'm sure Wesley has learnt his lesson." His mind was turning to salvaging some entertainment from the fading hours of the celebration.

"With some luck we may salvage some dignity from this mess." Picard watched as Riker, his Riker, Will Riker, approached Deanna and caught her attention. He looked just right in his Dress Formal uniform. "Once we get to Betazed and the official wedding, no-one needs to know anything out of order happened here." Picard's firm glance to Worf told him everything he needed to know.

Crusher appeared behind Picard's shoulder. "Did someone mention a naked wedding?"

"In good time, Wesley," Picard replied. "We need to know that Thomas Riker will be no further trouble."

"I can't guarantee that," said Crusher. "Maybe my mother will have a word with him?"

"And I suppose execution is out of the question?" Worf said aloud. Picard's scowl set him straight.

"No," said Picard. "We shall have to rely on Riker's common sense prevailing. Once he has sat in a cell for a few weeks for impersonating an officer, hopefully he'll realize this could never have worked. Then the formal wedding on Betazed between Deanna and the real Riker should close the matter for good."

Crusher smiled. "I'm sure it'll all work out for the best. This time, make sure I'm invited, alright?"


End file.
